


Letters to Santa

by MediocreMe



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-typical language, Christmas, Domestic Gallavich, Dorks in Love, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I only write fics with a lovesick Ian, Light Angst, M/M, Mention of Milkovich siblings, Mention of Terry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 05:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20718848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediocreMe/pseuds/MediocreMe
Summary: The Christmas fic that no one asked for.Mickey never understood why all of his other classmates received presents from Santa but not him. He really wants an explanation.Years later, Mickey gets his first gift.





	Letters to Santa

**Author's Note:**

> So, I thought up this idea for a fic while I was trying to go to sleep and my brain literally would not let me go to bed, so I just had to write it tonight. 
> 
> Obviously, there are errors in the first few letters and they are not well written since Mickey wrote them as a child. 
> 
> The last scene takes place in season 4, sometime between 4x08 and 4x11. It explains how Mickey finally just said 'fuck it' and ended up in the damn bed with Ian. 
> 
> The timeline might not match up with the show, but who cares, it's Shameless. 
> 
> It's kinda sad at first, but it gets kinda cute.

**_5 Years Old_** _*Omg Imagine this letter is written in crayon and some of the letters are backwards. Sweet Kindergarten Mickey*_

Hi Santa,

This is my 1st lettar ever. Ms. Murphy says we had to rite an tell you wat we want 4 Chrismas. I dont no what chrismas is but all the other kids did. They say you bring toys to us if we ask. I nevar ask befor so that is why I nevar got toys. Can I plese have the new nerf gun? That wold be cool. Thank u.

-Mickey

* * *

** _6 Years Old_ **

Dear Santa,

I did not get toys last year, but some of the kids say you don’t get toys if you are bad. I think that is why I didn’t. I tried real hard to be good this time but my brothers made me mad. I hit Iggy and Colin and I’m really really really sorry. I hope you are not mad at me. If you think I was good, can you bring me a G.I. Joe? David let me play with his one day at school and I think it was really cool. Thank you.

-Mickey Milkovich

P.s. I’m really really sorry.

* * *

** _7 Years Old _ **

Dear Santa,

Hi again, Santa. I don’t know if you got my other letters, but I still did not get any toys last year. I guess I wasn’t good, but this year I promise I was nice. None of my family got toys either, but I think they were all bad, too. My brothers are always mean to me and my dad is really mean to all of us. I asked him about you and he told me you were not real and Christmas was stupid, but I don’t believe him. You bring toys to all the other kids so you must be real. Mandy was really good this year, though. I promise. She wants a My Little Pony doll. Can you please bring her one? I would really like a scooter, too. All the other boys have one but dad got mad when I asked him for one, so maybe I can get one from you. If not, that’s ok but please bring Mandy a doll. Thank you.

-Mickey Milkovich

P.s. Maybe you got lost. I live at 1955 Trumbull Ave in Chicago.

* * *

** _8 Years Old_ **

Dear Santa,

I know you won’t bring me any gifts this year, but I have to write you because my teacher told me to. I have never gotten anything for Christmas, and I don’t think I will this year. Writing this letter is stupid and I don’t like it. I will never be good enough for the nice list so why even try. All the other kids get gifts (even Lip and he is a jerk) but I never do. I asked Iggy why but he just said that Christmas was dumb and walked away. I just don’t know why I don’t get presents. Can you please write me back and tell me what I need to do? Thanks.

-Mickey Milkovich

Ps. If I was good, I would like a bike. With training wheels, please. I don’t know how to ride one.

* * *

** _9 Years Old _ **

Santa,

I think you are mean. Everybody else gets presents but you didn’t even bring Mandy something last year and she was really good. Dad told me I’m too old for toys so I don’t even want anything, but you should at least bring Mandy something. The kids at school told me that you don’t like me because I don’t get gifts. Is that true? I have never done anything to you so I don’t know why you would be mad at me. Please let me know. Thanks.

-Mickey Milkovich

* * *

** _10 Years Old _ **

Santa,

I know you’re not real, this is just an assignment for school. You’re stupid, Christmas is stupid, and presents are stupid. I tried telling Mandy that you weren’t real, but she wouldn’t believe me. I guess she will just be disappointed this year, again.

-Mickey Milkovich

* * *

** _19 Years Old _ **

“Mick,” he heard a voice whisper as he felt himself being nudged awake. “Mick, wake up.”

“Gallagher, what the fuck,” he grumbled as his tired eyes slowly opened. His sight caught the redhead leaning over him in the dark. For just a moment, he was confused on where he was until he remembered he’d been sleeping over at Ian’s. Over the last couple of weeks, he’d been sleeping on a make-shift pallet next to Ian’s bed, despite the redhead’s protest. Gallagher actually wanted him to sleep in the bed with him with his two other brothers in the same room. Like Mickey would ever let that fucking happen.

“Come with me,” Ian urged.

Mickey just glared at him.

“Dude, go the fuck back to sleep. It’s too early for this shit. What time is it?”

“It’s midnight.”

“Oh my god. Fuck you, goodnight.”

“No, Mickey!” he exclaimed in a quiet whisper. “It’s Christmas! You need to come downstairs with me and then I promise I’ll leave you alone the rest of the night,” he pleaded.

The redhead was being annoyingly persistent, and it became clear to Mickey that he was not going to leave him alone until he did what was asked, so Mickey grudgingly picked himself up off of the hard floor and followed Ian downstairs. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he tried not to trip over his feet down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, he noticed that the living-room was dimly lit with the help of all of the Christmas lights.

He remembered how excited all of the Gallagher siblings were the night they decided to put up the decorations. The concept was new to Mickey, but he watched in awe as they put together the tree and hung up stockings. The ornaments scattered throughout the Christmas tree were all different colors and they were mostly just crafts made by the siblings at school. Mickey remembered when he used to make the same crafts when he was little, but they usually just found their way into the trash when he brought them home. All of the Gallagher’s each had at least a couple of gifts under the tree, most of which Fiona probably went out and bought. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than Mickey ever got growing up.

Ian stared at Mickey with a goofy grin and motioned him to join him on the couch. When Ian had fucked off and disappeared for a few months, Mickey had missed that fucking lame ass grin. After he sat down, he watched as the redhead’s smile got even wider.

“Okay, Gallagher. You’re being creepy as fuck right now. Why did you drag me down here? You’re not planning on tryin’ to get me to fuck you on this couch, are you? Because that ain’t happenin’,” Mickey grumbled, still not fully awake yet.

“No, Mick,” Ian laughed. “I just wanted to give you this before anyone else woke up.” He reached behind the side of the couch and handed Mickey a small, rectangle-shaped box. It was poorly wrapped in the same red and green giftwrap as the other boxes under the tree and it had a tiny blue bow in the center. In the corner of the box, it read:

To: Mickey

Love: Ian

It was a present. A present for Mickey. Mickey’s very first present ever.

“What…what is this?” Mickey asked, still confused on why the fuck Ian was giving this to him.

“It’s a gift. For you,” Ian explained, almost sounding confused on why Mickey was even asking.

“But…why?” Mickey inquired, still staring at the wrapped box.

“Because it’s Christmas?”

“But…I mean, I didn’t get you anything,” Mickey admitted as he finally met Ian’s green eyes. Wow, he felt like shit. He didn’t know they were supposed to get each other gifts. Sure, he saw them as a couple, but this shit was all new to Mickey. He didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do.

Ian smiled softly at him.

“Mickey, I didn’t get you a gift because I expected you to get me one. I got this for you because I _wanted_ to. We never talked about it and I know you have the shit with Svetlana going on, so I wasn’t really expecting you to get me anything, anyways.”

“I…I don’t –.” He honestly didn’t know what to say.

“Just open it,” Ian ordered. “I’ve been dying to give this to you.”

Mickey hesitated for a moment before finally giving in and unwrapping the present. When he’d disposed of all the wrapping paper, he held a black box in his hand. He opened it and discovered a gold chain inside, much like the one he had lost to the Gallagher’s dickhole of a cousin, Patrick. Except this one was shinier and a little thicker in width and, well, this one was from Ian. Mickey just gazed at it in admiration.

“I figured I owed you a new one since my family pretty much got your other one stolen,” Ian clarified as he rubbed a hand on the back of his head awkwardly.

“Ian,” Mickey started, “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Mick. I wanted to do this. You’ve done a lot of shit for me and I kinda put you through some shit, too and I just –.” Mickey ended the redhead’s rambling as he leaned in quickly, pressing their lips together. Ian seemed a little shocked at first, but it wasn’t long before he was kissing Mickey back.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. It was different than the other times they’d kissed. This was slow and intimate, and it gave no intention of going any further. No sex, no blowjobs, just kissing. It was perfect.

Eventually, Mickey pulled back slightly and leaned his forehead onto Ian’s, blue eyes meeting green.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his hand rubbing a thumb over Ian’s cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Mickey,” Ian smirked.

“Merry Christmas, Ian.”

That night, Mickey slept in Ian’s bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a writer so there's probably a few errors. Let me know how you liked the story! :)


End file.
